As the dust settles

Just before feeding Clara this afternoon, I gathered together a little selection of snacks for myself. She began eating. I began eating. Clara stopped eating. She gave me a highly annoyed look that could only be interpreted as "I'll wait."

And wait she did. So help me—I wanted that string cheese.

Who would have guessed that a two-month-old could be so particular about her eating environment? (Another post about nursing???? Is she kidding me? That's what you're thinking—I know—stick with me though). If I dare talk to anyone, she completely flips out. Phone rings? We've got one mad baby on our hands. Oh, and then there was the other day when Tom—in the other room—sneezed. Why, it was more than she could bear.

She's a character, this one.

She continued to kindly look on as I chomped down on my Triscuits. I explained to her that I'd gladly share my snack with her, except for that darn "immature digestion system" hang up. Well and then there's the whole no teeth issue. All such talk went totally over her head. Newborns. Can't explain anything to 'em.

The first few weeks after the little miss was born I had about a billion (give or take the billion) other moms ask, "Don't you just love being a mom?" And of course I would quickly respond with an emphatic "Oh, yes, mmm-hmmm! Absolutely! Couldn't be happier!!"  

And I felt 100% guilty because really, inside, I was as stressed out as they come. Completely overwhelmed, along with about 25 more synonyms that ultimately mean "overwhelmed." There were many days that I felt just sure that doin' the mom thing was not my thing. Sure that I was better suited to be a working girl my whole life.

But that was then. She's 11 weeks now and still breathing! Such news is great for morale. The thought struck me: Hey—I can do this. And hey—it's not so hard. All I have to do is feed her, bathe her, dress her, carry her, entertain her, soothe her, swaddle her, sleep her, and everything else because she's fully incapable—but hey—maybe I'm not so bad! And I think I can even say with some confidence that she seems to be enjoying her stay here with us.

I love it when I catch her grinning at her toys. Like she's already formed some sort of conspiratorial alliance that grown ups will never understand.

And then there's her mobile. She's hopelessly devoted. Hopelessly.

So go ahead, billion moms. Ask me again.